


Wavesongs and Destiny's roads

by WingedSundisk



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedSundisk/pseuds/WingedSundisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with an image in Gerpado's Rumbelle Menagerie (can be found here: http://tmblr.co/Z3BWOvg8z9VX) and spiraled into something I could not even try to control. It is a story of 'What if?' and how a single moment could change history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The war council was tense. Once they had thought that with the banishment of Regina and the imprisonment of the Dark One, a time of peace and prosperity would begin, but Regina had managed to negate that hope. Her dark vow echoed in the mind of the attendants and the Dark Ones prophecy had not made it any better. Worriedly Snow stroked her pregnant belly. She did not wish for her daughter to be born in a world without happiness and she was ready to do anything to protect her. A soft splashing sound interrupted her dark musings and she looked to her left, were the sea-warlock attempted to find some comfort in the far too small water-tank.  
It was an odd creature, strange to look at and personally she did not knew him, but Charming had several encounters with him and spoke well of him. She couldn't help but wince in sympathy as he once more tried to rearrange his many limbs in order to gain a bit more comfort, but it couldn't be helped. A tank, big enough for him to be comfortable with, it wouldn't have left any space for the others, lest a table.  
"The kingdom of Atlantica is completely evacuated by now. The merfolk used a magical whirlpool to leave this world behind. The leviathan has left her nest, her eggs unguarded and cold as she seeks a way to escape the coming of the end. And the dangerous rapids are no longer guarded for the Taniwha have started the Great Prayer and they will not stop beseeching their gods until they gain answers or until they are dead." The voice of the warlock was soft, deep and with a gentle lit that would make it the perfect voice of a storyteller, if only his news weren't so dire.  
Charming's reports weren't any better and she was this close to loosing all hope when the Blue Fairy came with the tree. The last enchanted tree. Their hope.

Slowly the council came to an end and one by one, the others left until only she, Charming and the sea-warlock remained.

"David," the voice of the sea-warlock interrupted her musings, "you promised I could talk to him."

"That I did. And I do keep my promises. I just don't know how to get you down there. Your tank was hard enough to get into this room."

The warlock smiled and then he started to change. When he was finished, the royal couple couldn't help but stare. The warlocks human form was not what they had expected. He was small, barely reaching Charmings shoulder and very wiry build. The clothes he conjured were plain and simple, soft, meant for comfort. He wore no shoes.  
For a moment Snow couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't done this before, it would have been so much easier than pulling the heavy glass-tank into the council room. Then he started to move and she had her answer. Moving as a human, it was not natural to him. Actually it was downright painful. Charming gasped and she followed his eyes to find out what had shocked him so much. Footprints. Bright red footprints. The warlocks feet were bleeding with every step he took.  
"What? How?" He didn't know what he wanted to say, didn't know how to ask the right questions, but it seemed that the warlock understood without many words.  
"I am a creature of the sea. This is the price I have to pay for walking the land. Every step as painful as walking on sharpened glass and swords. Each step I pay with blood."

Charming was shocked by this revelation and he thought about the long way down to the prison of the Dark One. He shuddered as he tried to imagine the pain the warlock would have to endure just to talk with that wretched creature and because he could be a bit impulsive and also because the warlock weighted next to nothing in this form, he simply gathered him into his arms and carried him down.

Snow blinked, she had not expected that, but then she smiled. More proof that he would make an excellent father.

***

The tunnel was dark and damp and cold. Few torches lit up islands of light in the oppressing darkness and creepy laughter echoed through the cavern. He hated it already. Finally the prince let him down and on pained, bleeding feet he hobbled the last steps towards the cage. The laughter stopped and the inmate deemed to step into the light.  
Reptilian eyes and scaled skin of green-golden colour, black claws and stained teeth, wild hair and leathers that made him appear more reptile than mammal, he had been prepared for all of this, but not for the madness shining out of golden eyes. It hurt him, for it showed him how much he had failed his promise.

"Well, well, well... looksie what the shepherd dragged in." The Dark One taunted, seemingly dancing along the bars, as if he was unable to remain still for even a second. "If that is not my traitor of a father." He giggled. "Come to see what they achieve with your ink? Or did you want to talk again?" He spat the word 'talk' like it was the foulest thing of the entire world. "Can't run away now, can I?" He laughed again, a shrill manic sound that hurt the ears of all that listened.

"No," his father said and took a last painful step closer to the bars. He was now in reach of the Dark One's claws, but he didn't care about that. "Just please tell me, where did it all go so wrong? Was there anything I could have done to change this?"

The Dark One stopped laughing and it looked like he actually sank into himself, making himself smaller. "There was nothing," he said, sullenly. "Nothing you could have done. This was fated, fated, ever since he took that offering this was fa~ha~hated to happen." For a moment his speech sounded almost normal, but than he leaped back into the darkness and a new series of shrill pitched laughter began.

The father lowered his head, knowing that he would get no other answers now, but it was already enough. Slowly he turned around, ready to start the long painful trek back up into the light. One last look showed a cell, dark, seemingly empty and barren of life. "I am sorry, Bae. So very, very sorry."


	2. Each River a Road

If there was one thing Regina truly wanted to know, one thing that really burned inside of her, it was the question why in a town of endless repeats, a town cursed to have no happy endings, why in a town like this, the sea-warlock still managed to be happy. Well, not entirely happy, but happier than most other inhabitants, and she was adding herself to that list. Other questions she had had, before the curse, she had finally gained answers to, but each answer bore new questions for her to agonize over.  
Regina didn't like the sea-warlock. She had never gotten a way to predict or control him. Once, when she had tried to bargain for his ink and he had denied her, she had even tried to rip out his heart. But she couldn't. And he had laughed at her. Had told her that it would not work on him, for he had more than one heart. Well, how was she to know that squids had three hearts? She was a queen, not a fishwife.

Oh, the first time she had seen him in his cursed form, she had felt quite satisfied. A small man, made even smaller by his handicap, she had felt the glee bubble inside of her watching him struggle. That had been before she realized that he was liked, that he was looked at fondly in the cursed community. Before she had meet his wife.  
Ha! Some curse, giving the wretched old invertebrate a gentle, kind and loving wife. Maybe that was Belles curse? Idly she wondered if the former housekeeper of the Dark One had been deadly afraid of squids or if there had been something else she had overlooked.  
And the Dark One. Due to their deal she had made him rich, gave him land and a fearsome reputation. She hadn't known that the man she now knew as Cináed Gold was the son of the sea-warlock. That had been a nasty surprise to find out.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Somehow the damned Dark One had managed to trick her and now he didn't even remember. She snatched her purse and left. Right now she had a huge craving for calamari to satisfy.

***

Storybrook, Maine was well, quaint. A nice little town in nowhere, America. Emma was used to larger cities, places that didn't look like they rolled up the sidewalks when the sun went down. But there was one thing that did impress her and she was honest enough to admit it. The fact that most houses and stores were accessible by the handicapped. There were ramps and elevators, broad aisles and low doorknobs. Henry told her that he had heard, that the elder Mr Gold had ordered the remodelling of his buildings after his accident.  
That, well it told her nothing really. So far she had only met the younger Gold and somehow, despite his charming smile and good manners, he had creeped her out. The way he had looked at her, it had made her want to crank up the shower and shrub herself raw. It made tiny little alarm bells ring shrilly in her head. But she had promised Henry that she would stay for a while and so stay here she would.

***

His hands were taking apart an old Victorian pocket-watch, but his mind was miles away. Emma, she was finally here. Pretty Emma, strong Emma, her name seemed to reverberate through his mind with each beat of his heart. Emma, who woke him. Who would pave his way to the world beyond the curseline. Emma, Emma, Emma. He wanted to laugh, but that would be out of character for his dour Storybrooke-self. The hands of the clock, that had stayed still for the last 28 years, they were moving. Tick-tock, tick-tock, counting the minutes until Regina's curse was broken and dust. It was going to be amusing, watching the queen try and stop the unstoppable. Can't stop a tidal-wave, dearie, as well as a daughter of Snow White who was finally coming into her own.

***

Regina was seething. Emma Swan. With her hair like straw and her bad manners and her stupid yellow bug. She had wanted her gone, as far away from her town and son as possible, instead the insolent girl dug her heels in and decided to stay. Emma Swan. Henry's birth mother. The one her son had run away, run away to find. But he was her son, not Emmas, Henry belonged to her and her alone. And no Emma, no matter the stupid leather jacket or stupid job, would take him away from her. Sooner or later she would make her leave and then Henry would be solely hers again.

***

Henry was leafing through his book, excited. Emma was going to stay. She was going to break the curse, he just knew it. Stories unfolded on the pages before him. Many of the characters he could appoint their cursed Storybrooke self, but there were several that weren't so easy. Despite lots of personal detective work, he had so far been unable to pin a name on the figure of the Dark One. His inhumane features made him quite hard to place. Even Jiminy, who had been a cricket for most of the stories, had a picture that showed him as an adult human before his transformation. Not so with the Dark One. Every image of him was shadowy or otherwise covered. Darkness, smoke, fog or even other people. Sometimes the Dark One hid in a cloak, sometimes all you saw was his retreating back. It felt like the artist had refused to paint him clearly, fearing the image might come to life if he did so. The other being Henry had trouble placing, he had clear images from the book, but the being had to look quite different so the images weren't helpful. He remembered the first time of reading about the war council, of seeing the illustration. Someone that was half-squid sounded way cool to his boyish imagination and the pictures had delivered quite beautifully. There were many wiggly limbs, covered in suckers and eyes that were huge and he read that his skin could take on any colour he wanted. But the coolest thing, in his opinion, was the ink. The sea-warlock was a magical being that could produce anti-magic ink. How cool was that?  
Unfortunately none of those facts helped him to identify his Storybrooke self. The sea-warlock was important and Henry just knew that he held one of the keys to breaking the curse. If only he could find out who he was.

With a frustrated sight he shoved the book under his pillow and switched of the light. He would try again tomorrow.

***

The shop was bright and friendly, with broad aisles and huge shelving units. Books were seemingly everywhere. A few chairs invited the browsing individual to sit down and take a closer look. There were few islands in this sea of books, that displayed different fountain pens, stationery and inks, as well as some beautifully bound notebooks. Emma felt way out of her depth.  
"Can I help you, ducky?" The voice was warm, male and accented in a nice way. One of those voices you wouldn't mind listening to the whole day long. Voices like that were made to record audio-books. Emma turned around. The man was small, with a kind face. A few strands of grey and wrinkles to show that he was no longer the youngest, that he had lived an exciting and fulfilling life. Many of them seemed to be laughter lines.  
He was also sitting in a wheelchair. 


	3. Raindrops quietly pattern weave

He had been a weaver, once. Threads, patterns, he was familiar with those. And he could see patterns in other things. The way people behaved, the way stories unfolded, in curses waiting to be cast. And Emma, poor, unborn Emma, she was important. Important to her parents, who just wanted to love her, important to the world, for she would be the saviour. Important to his son, why? Why did he bargain an entire prophecy for the price of the girls name? There were many possibilities, but not many made sense. And if he were a betting man, he would bet his entire herd of capricorns that it had something to do with the coming curse.  
Once he had been a father, a teacher, proud at the way his son learned so quickly, now he tried to unravel the way his son planned to try and counter the moves he had made. So far he was failing. He was unable to understand his son. It hurt.

***

Cinderella's time was running out, tick-tock, each day brought her a bit closer to her delivery date. A girl, a little girl, that was what she was expecting and despite himself, despite knowing that this child would not be his, he couldn't help but yearn. How long had it been since Eirlys birth? How long since he held a tiny little Gwenhael in his arms? His father had told him once, that the moment he had taken him into his arms for the first time, that this moment was the happiest moment in his life and he knew this to be the absolute truth. For he had felt the same when his children had been placed into his arms. And nothing had hurt so much as the day when his son took his daughter and they left him behind. Left him howling, pleading, begging and digging at the ground. The left him, like anyone left him. Morraine, beautiful Morraine, left him when the scarlet fever took her and their unborn child, his father, who had smiled at him until he had screamed as his humanity had been ripped away from him. Father, who had given anything to stop the war, who still loved him, despite the fact that he was a monster, but who couldn't really stay, for this was not his world any longer. Mother, ha, she had left them a long time ago, both him and father. Left them for adventure and excitement, left his father for another man and him? Why had she left him? Hadn't he been a good son, a good boy?  
It took some time to tame the swirling, hurtful memories. They had no place here and now. Emma would break the curse and he would find his children and if he had to grovel and beg and debase himself to gain their forgiveness, he would do it. Everything for his children.

***

Emma looked at the blank pages of the notebook she had purchased. Nibbled at the end of her pencil. Looked again. The pages were still mockingly blank. She had thought to write down her own story, for Henry to read. For him to learn that life was not like a fairytale, but full of cheating hearts and disappointments. And yet, she had no idea how to start. Where to start. When she had been pushed around from foster home to foster home? When the dream of being adopted, of having a family that wanted her had finally turned into dust? When the first man she had trusted, she had loved turned on her and sold her to the cops? When she had to give up that tiny precious life she had created and sent it to a better place? Every thought drove her heart closer to breaking. It hurt, each memory a serrated knife in her heart. Emma was honestly surprised that there was even enough of her heart left to bleed, but bleeding it did. And still, somehow she had to fill the pages. Fill them for Henry. For she knew herself and she would disappoint her son, it was what she did best. And when she finally left, she wanted him to have something of her, so that he would not forget her. Well, if he wanted to have a memento of her. She would try. It would be there.

***

The memories unfolded behind his eyes like a lotus flower in the morning. Beautiful and inevitable. Emma had come, like his son had predicted and with her she brought her name.  
It had taken him some time, but he had found out why Bae had wanted her name, that he had fashioned it into a key for his memories. He had felt it, thousand repeats of the unborn girls name, Emma, Emma, Emma, written in his ink. He couldn't help but wonder if his son had known that he would feel it, those thousand repeats of her name, gently scratched down with a broken quill. Unfortunately, over decades turning into centuries, his boys thoughts have become a mystery to him. Sealed and guarded, hidden behind walls of whimsy, false smiles and countless spells. But this time he had found out and it had been easy to write himself into the spell, to twist the netting of the curse to allow him to slip through, well at least partially. It hurt, this broken shell that was his body, he was not meant to stay on land and while he wasn't constantly bleeding with every step like in the Enchanted Forest, the countless scars and shattered bones of his legs were making it not any easier. Painkillers were helping a bit, but even that temporary numbness came with a price. Too less and the pain wouldn't stop, too much and he had to fear addiction.

The only light in this cursed existence was Belle. The maiden his son had claimed as a caretaker once. He smiled as he remembered how the two of them had met. Back at the Dark Castle, his son had a large lake which he had enchanted to allow his father to use and visit. Belle, bless her clumsy, curious heart, had fallen into the lake when she had heart the bleating of one of his capricorns. It had been a star-crossed sort of love, him the creature of the sea and Belle the land-bound human. He had taught her to swim and he had enjoyed her melodious voice when she was reading aloud sitting next to the lake when the summer-sun had warmed the air. Oh yes, they had been very much in love with each other, but as beings of two different elements, their time together was always shorter than they wished for it to be.  
And now he was here, crippled, even worse than the last time he had been a human, but despite this crippled body he had found the greatest joy ever and her name was Belle.

***

His eyes were burning. Ashley, Cinderella, she had attacked him in his own shop. Sprayed his face, his eyes, full of mace. He had not been prepared for this kind of attack. His head was pounding where he had slammed against counter, temporarily knocking himself out. Slowly he sat up, reached into the suit pocket for his cell phone. Despite the many differences, his fathers number was still the first programmed in his phone and a single hit of a button was enough to send out a call.

***

He had to wait outside. Belle was in there, helping, bathing his son's eyes. But he had to wait outside, for the amount of clutter in his sons shop made it impossible for a wheelchair to navigate. Finally the two of them came out, Bae leaning heavily on his stepmother. His sons eyes were red and swollen and his suit rumpled and dusty. Ashley's doing.  
Things finally were in motion. The curse was on its way to be broken. Yet, he wished that there was another way. This was going to get worse before it finally was breaking through.

***

An adoption. Cináed Gold's little scheme had hidden an adoption. The unborn child had been promised to his father and his stepmother and suddenly Emma felt like the lousiest human being ever. Her gut told her that the elder Gold would have been a terrific father, even if his son had become a bit of a creep. Actually, he and his wife, they were the kind of people little foster children dream about being adopted by. If she had know that the girl would have gone to the Gold's would she have fought as hard? She had no idea and that scared her the most.

***

He could see the pattern and he smiled. Oh, his poor, poor boy. Bae had no idea what he had started. Rumpelstiltskin had seen this particular pattern before, with the girls parents, with himself and Belle and now Baelfire himself war being snared in the threads of true love. Emma would know it much sooner than his boy, but she had been burned, had been damaged in the name of love. She would try and resist. And ultimately, like all those that went up against true love, she would fail. He was no seer, not like his son, but he could predict that that kiss was going to be epic. True love's kiss between the Dark One and the Saviour? It simply had to be special. And maybe they would be able to heal one another, both of them having been suffering from the pain of rejection and loneliness.

Oh Emma, you were going to make a fine daughter-in-law.


	4. Pretty Pictures Painted by Tears

David, now more famously named Charming by a cheeky runaway Princess, had finally found the mystical Lake Nostos. The water that could restore Frederick and give Abigail the happy ending that was denied to him. He took off his cloak before approaching the edge of the lake and was just about to dip his canteen into the water, when it happened. And it happened so fast that he had no time to react. Suddenly there were large tentacles warped around his arms, holding them, holding him tightly, without any means to defend himself, less the possibility of escape. Was that the beast of the lake? The monstrous guardian?   
"Ah, ah, ah, ducky. What do we have here? A little would-be-thief. Didn't your parents teach you that stealing is wrong?"

Out of the lake, a creature rose. The strangest looking creature Charming had ever seen. Long green and brown hair that looked more like seaweed than anything else. Eyes that were huge, big and brown. Skin that took on the colour of the surrounding ground, changing minutely with every step the creature took. Steps, ha, the creature wasn't stepping, couldn't walk, for it had no legs. Instead it had a mass of limbs, like he had never seen before. Truly, it was monstrous.  
"You are the guardian of the Lake, are you? The beast that drowns anyone trying to gain the water."  
"Me?" The creature blinked and looked offended. "Oh, ducky, get your stories straight. I am the sea-warlock, the squid-sorcerer, that lives in the great wide ocean. Don't mind me, I am just here to visit a friend. This friend, by the way, is the guardian of this lake. It is her holy and sworn duty to protect these waters from thieves, such as you and only allow those that prove that they know the worth of the lake and its mysteries to take a token bit of it."  
A woman rose up from the waters, beautiful to look at, but there was something cold, something deadly about her.

"I am not a thief." He struggled against the binding of the strange limbs, but it was useless. "I was told that a beast lives in these waters, killing anybody that tries to take a bit of water." The two beings looked at each other. "Tell me, Loreley. When was the last time someone did the proper ritual to obtain your blessing." The woman shrugged, tried to remember the time, but failed.   
Charming stumbled, nearly fell as the limbs of the male creature suddenly loosened.  
"It seems that the humans have forgotten the proper way of asking you for your waters, my dear." "Oh," the she-creature sighed.   
If there was one thing, Charming had no desire to be called, then it would be thief. He had been always fair and honest (well, except for the impersonating his dead twin-brother thing, but that was not his fault) and he wished for it to remain so.   
"If there is a proper way of doing this, then teach me. Tell me how to do it the right way."   
Both creatures looked at each other and after a short, silent conversation, the male creature turned to the fake prince.  
"Well, ducky. It appears to be your lucky day." The female creature made herself comfortable and the male one took on the classic position of a teacher. "Ready to learn?"

He really hoped that he didn't regret this.

***

Granny Lucas was a font of useful information and gossip of all kinds. After Emma had carefully hinted her interest in the story of the elder member of the Gold family, she had bluntly told her the facts. Starting with the fact that there had been a first wife, a nag, granny called her, that had left him and his pre-teen son for a younger, prettier guy. A good for nothing scoundrel, that was the old woman's opinion. Nobody had heard of them again. Well, good riddance to them.  
She spoke about the struggles of the single father, until with a stroke of luck, he had come into his fortune. Wanting to give something back to the community, he had, bit by bit, bought the land of the town, starting to restore the houses and shops to their former glory.  
The 'Accident' and Emma could hear the capital letters of importance, had happened when Cináed had been fourteen. There had been an argument between father and son, the son feeling neglected, the father stressed by the amount of work. Cináed had stormed out, the father running after him. Distracted the boy had not seen the truck that had brought supplies for the local cannery. But the father had seen, had realised what was going to happen. With a burst of speed he had closed in on his son and wrenched him out of the zone of danger. Unfortunately he had been unable to stop himself and the force of the momentum drove him straight underneath the truck. His legs had been smashed. And Cináed had been forced to watch.  
Emma winched in sympathy. That must have been pretty traumatizing. Granny agreed with her and continued the story.

The fact that the hospital had managed to save his legs had been a miracle, more or less. He was unable to walk, his legs too destroyed to function properly. Still in the hospital he had ordered the remodelling of his buildings when he had learned that he would be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. During his long stay in the hospital he met what would later become his second wife. He had been depressed and had rejected any physical contact until a stubborn volunteer decided to not care about his grumpiness. With her natural cheerfulness she managed to slowly bring him out of his self-imposed shell.  
It took them a while, especially since the elder Gold had self-doubts. He worried about the fact that he was both older and crippled and the fact that his first wife had left him when his legs had been both in working order had left some mental scars as well. But Linda had been there for each bad night, each horrible bout of physical therapy and one year after he had been released from the hospital, they had wed.   
When Cináed had reached adulthood, his father had signed over most of the houses and land he had owned, leaving only the deeds of his own house and shop in his hands.  
And Cináed had moved into the large pink house his father had left, for the many stairs were not very suitable for a man in a wheelchair. He started collecting the rent and slowly he grew colder and colder, feeling like anyone believed him to be responsible for his father's crippled state. The fact that his father had long since forgiven him was unimportant to him. The young man felt like anyone was judging him and so he returned the assumed attack. In the following years his reputation had worsened more and more, until he had become the town-beast he was known as today.

Emma sighed and paid for her cocoa. The story could have been used for a soap opera, but there was nothing, as far as she could see, that would make it otherworldly. So why did she have this annoyingly niggling feeling that there was more to all of this?

***

She was on his mind. Always. While he planned the next moves against Regina, while he went over ever beautiful yet agonizing memory of time he'd spent with his children, there was always a background noise of Emma, Emma, Emma going on. At first he'd thought it excitement. Thought it to be the desire for the saviour to break the curse. He was in doubt for this explanation to be the truth by now. There were other thoughts. Mental snapshots. Short daydreams about her figure and her sassy replies. He liked the way she countered him, liked the way she displayed that she had a working brain. Emma, strong and brave, able to think for yourself. He wanted to make her smile. That thought stopped him short. What was happening? Making her smile? Had he forgotten who he was? Who Emma was? Was he ignoring the cause for all this? Was he forgetting the reason why he had allowed this all to happen? What was wrong with him?

***

With a flourish she closed the book. The first chapter, the story of the yellow bug, it was finally finished. Once she had started, the words practically had flown onto the paper, like they had just waited for her to take up the pen. It had been cathartic, to write about how young and hopeful she had been. Even years in the system had not managed to completely kill her hopes. No, that dubious honour had gone to Neal. The one she had trusted, the one that had betrayed her so utterly, that she had been unable to trust anyone again. Humans used each other. Love? Just an illusion. Yet, she wanted to love her son without that niggling voice in the back of her mind. And maybe, just maybe, there would be something else, something more interesting to come with Cináed, the pawnbroker. Despite the fact that he was a bit creepy and not trustworthy, there was something, some sort of pull she could not yet identify. Weird. Emma frowned and then decided to ignore it for now. Better to think about how to write up the two years she had spent in Tallahassee, searching for a man that didn't show and trying to ignore the hurt of an empty apartment. No little baby, no smiling husband, just empty rooms and walls that seemed to lean in on her. That would be depressing to write up, but she had already made the first step, now it was time to go on and finally leave it all behind.

***

Henry was not stupid. A bit impulsive from time to time and he knew that he was sometimes blurting out things that were on his mind. Things that he better should have kept secret, but he had a working brain and he could put one and one together. Ashley was Cinderella. Cinderella had made a contract with the Dark One, a contract that had her first-born as the price. Cináed Gold, the pawnbroker, he had brokered a contract with Ashley concerning the adoption of her unborn child. It all added up, it made sense.  
No, Henry was no dummy. Cináed Gold was Baelfire, the Dark One. The biggest dark force of the Enchanted Forest. One of the most dangerous beings written about.  
Henry had no idea how his father fit into this, the elder Gold was so friendly and kind and his wife the nicest being ever. Also the Dark One had no father in the book, but he would find out. Somehow he would uncover this fascinating mystery.

As long as he managed to keep his mouth shut.

***

Linda/Belle opened the door and without saying anything, lead him to the office. Rumpelstiltskin was waiting for him. And without saying anything he told him everything. He let him read his eyes, dropping all defences and his father knew.  
Oh, he had found out that his papa had managed to wiggle his way out of the memory part of the curse, he had seen it the first time after he himself had woken up. But he had managed to keep his father away, just like he had done the last 300 years. And now all his barriers were gone. He was the Dark One, he couldn't love, it was impossible. Not after the last time. Not after she had rejected him so cruelly. No, he couldn't, wouldn't love again. And yet, his heart was beating, Emma, Emma, Emma, each beat driving the name deeper into him, anchoring her in himself, in his heart.  
Fool that he was, he should have followed Cora's example, should have ripped his traitorous heart out of his chest before it was too late. For now his heart was beating Emma's name and he was clutching his father's slight frame as he cried.  
He had not foreseen this. And he had no way to counter his heart as it continued to beat for the Saviour, turning his well-thought plans into dust. 


	5. Unstoppable as the Tides

There was a goat. A goat in the large lake that was part of her masters castle grounds. Why was there a goat in the lake? Could it swim? Did her master put it there? Well, she could believe he would do something like that, but only for some convoluted reason. And what reason did he have to put a goat into his lake? Belle knew she was too curious for her own good, but she simply had to go closer to the water, had to take a closer look.  
It looked strange, that goat. The fur should cling to it, wet as it was, but it seemed quite fluffy and the large horns seemed to sparkle in the light. Also the way it boobed in the water looked quite wrongly for a land-bound animal. Her curiosity drove her onward and she didn't see the wet leaves on the ground. There was a startled scream and a splash as she fell into the water. The goat bleated in surprise and then it dove underwater, displaying a mighty fishtail. The goat was a capricorn, a sea-goat that was immortalized in the starry images of the night sky.  
But Belle had other problems right now. She could swim under normal circumstances, but the heavy cloth of her dress weighted her down and her corset was hindering her ability to breath. Her hands reached for the lacing, but the water had made the cord slippery and the knots had been pulled tight because of her trashing. She thought she would have to die now, a stupid and unnecessary death by drowning, just because she'd wanted to sate her curiosity. Briefly she wondered how the Dark One would react. He was a strange master, kind if it suited him, but unforgivingly strict when it came to deals. Would her death invalidate their deal? She hoped not. But before she could complement her grim fate, her situation changed once more. Strong limbs warped around her midst, raising her out of the water.

"Why, ducky, most people take off their heavy dresses before they take a dip." The friendly male voice said as she was deposited on solid ground again. She turned around to thank her saviour and stopped short as she came face to face with the strangest creature she'd ever seen and yes, that included the Dark One. On the other hand, he (at least she assumed it was a he, going by the lack of breasts and the male voice the creature was sporting) looked to be a lot friendlier than her new master.

"I... thank you, for saving me." Manners were important, her mother had told her once and so she curtsied as best as she could, her wet clothes being quiet a hindrance.

"Don't worry about it, Ducky." The skin around those huge eyes crinkled as he smiled.

***

She was late, the sun already setting as she entered her master's castle again, but she was smiling, happy. The Dark One was still a scary and unreadable being and she was still separated from her family and home, but now she had something to look forward to. It was strange, she had quite easily forgotten the fact that the sea-warlock, Rumpelstiltskin, was not human. She had such a good time talking with him, that the fact that he was a sea-creature had only really come to her mind when he had said goodbye and slipped back under the surface of the lake. It made her wonder. She never forgot the otherness of her master.

Quickly she slipped into the kitchen and put the kettle over the fire. Her master liked to have tea with his dinner and the kettle needed some time to boil. 

She smiled that evening when she served dinner. Rumpelstiltskin had promised to visit the lake again, when the moon was full. Belle couldn't wait.

***

Storybrooke was not a very big town. No, it wasn't a village either, but small enough to have rumours circulate rather quickly. The Sheriff had kissed his new deputy, who had rejected his advances quite soundly and loudly, claiming that it had felt like kissing an older brother. Graham had to admit to himself that if he really thought about it, he did felt more protective than in love with her. Yes, taking her under his wing as a little sister felt better. It was not completely right, but more right than falling for her.  
He didn't know it, but Emma's public declaration of sibling-ship had saved his life. Even as he told the mayor that he felt confused and wished to take a time-out in their relationship because of a series of strange dreams he had, Regina decided to wait and see. For while he was not with her, he was not with Emma either and she could always win him back later. After she had dealt with her little interloper.

Which might be a bit more complicated than she had thought, because the Dark One was behaving strangely. Cináed Gold, the town gossips were gleefully speculating, Cináed Gold was in love. In love with Emma Swan. Delightful. The last thing she could need right now was an amorous Dark One falling for her problem-girl. She would never get rid of her then. The Pawnbroker would cling and cajole and do anything in his might to make her stay. Oh, had this happened in the Enchanted Forest, she would have found it funny, would have tried to use it to her gain. Were it truly love of the truest kind, one kiss would have rid her of her bothersome Dark One problem. But this was not the Enchanted Forest. Cináed Gold had no magic and was just a paranoid and cold human being. Just as his father and the nuns and the spineless chirping insect that had become the town therapist. All humans, all dancing as she pulled the strings.

***

He watched as his father broke through the surface of the lake. Even after 300 years it still hurt. Hurt to remember why and how his father had become this creature. And yet he was going to use his father. He was going to make him a playing figure in his game with fate. Cinderella was going to make her move soon and his father had three years to fall deeply in love with his little cleaning princess. And she was no better. Baelfire could always say if his father had visited her. Her smiles were a lot more radiant on those days.

For a moment he looked at the golden scallop in his hand. The seashell was beautifully decorated and hidden beyond an inlay of pearl was a tiny keyhole. And inside the locked replica of a clam was a small phial containing a tiny amount of the true-love-potion. True, Charming had hidden the bigger vial in Maleficent's beast-form, but he liked to have back-ups, just in case. And his father would do it, would wear the necklace with the golden seashell, for as long as he wore it, Belle would have a choice. Yes, his papa always did come through for the people he loved. Time to prove that he could do the same.

***

Linda took a deep breath as she opened the shop. The aroma of old books, new books, of the special inks her husband was fashioning as well as the handmade papers hanging to dry, it filled her nostrils and put a smile on her lips. She had never imagined her life like this and despite all obstacles, it was better than she had hoped it to be. There had been her father, who had planned out her life in minutely detail. From her wedding to his young apprentice Gary, to the number of grandchildren she would produce. She had put her foot down then, had moved into a tiny room in Granny's inn and had worked in the hospital as a candy striper, planing out a life of studying medicine and becoming a doctor. That had changed when she met Ruaraidh Gold. It wasn't love on the first sight, not at all. Instead she had been her stubborn self and he had leashed out at anybody, snaking and putting down each and everyone that came into his sight. Most of the time he moped, thinking himself worthless because of his newly crippled state.

She had enjoyed their verbal matches, had liked the way she could see his eyes lighting up when he was working through a problem. He needed help, true. Needed to find ways to adapt to his new situation and somehow she had bulldozed her way into his life. Love had come later. It had sneaked into their lives like a thief and both of them had been surprised and shocked to learn that they loved each other.

Of course there had been gossip. The young, estranged daughter of the florist and the wealthy, middle-aged businessman, the freshly crippled single father. Too old, too crippled, the son would hate her, the options had been quite clear. None had believed that they would last. Ha, they had showed it to those old gossips. 

Silently she sneaked into the back room where Ruaraidh was preparing a new batch of ink. Gently she slipped her hands into his hair, tilting his head back so she could greet him with a kiss. His smile was bright and the skin around his eyes crinkled. For the split of a second she had an image flashing through her head, of Ruaraidh, but strangely different. Maybe she should stop reading so much lovecraftian horror stories, she was already imagining her husband with tentacles.


	6. Ripples

The hairs were dancing around each other for a moment, before dissolving in the most beautiful shade of royal purple. Thin bands of gold wove through the mist and small droplets of liquid sparkled like diamonds. Liquid true love was always beautiful to the eye.

He watched the result with satisfaction. This was it, the answer to his latest worries. The closer he got to the time of the curse casting, the more details became clear when he cast his view towards the future. True, some pieces he could not place and some were so highly symbolic that they made no sense without their names, but now he had a way to ensure some comfort for his last remaining family member.

It had been so simple, so elegant an idea that he couldn't help but wonder why he had not thought about it sooner. 

After he'd finished the true love potion made with the shepherd prince's and the bandit princess' hair, he had, more on a whim than anything else, combined different hairs in different vials. Some results he'd expected. Most combinations reacted on some levels, most of them negatively. (The sludge created by the combination of his own hair and Regina's looked positively toxic) But when he had combined the hair of his father with one of his cleaning princess, he had gained a potion that actually outshone that of Charming and Snow. It was a pity that his visions had told him that the daughter of Snow White was going to be their saviour, otherwise he would have changed his plans. Well, there was also the fact that he had no idea if his father was still fertile and if a cross-breed was possible, so better stay with a wholly possible and plan-able human offspring and saviour, then a probably impossible mix of two different species (The fact that any new child of his father's would be his brother or sister had absolutely nothing to do with it, nothing).

He had a slight bounce in his step as he walked into one of his treasure rooms. Several decades ago he had made a deal with an unhappy little priestess. Her parents had more or less indentured her to the priesthood and she wished for nothing more than to escape. One of his better deals. He had morphed her features and voice, handed her a good bit of starting money and had send her to a distant kingdom. She had lived a long and happy life, a midwife and teacher in her village. As his part of the deal he had gained a set of necklaces that were magical in some way even he could not unravel. All he knew was that they only worked with true love. That they tied true love to true love. And they were strong, some of the strongest magic he had encountered, ever. Strong enough to withstand the curse he had so painstakingly woven over the last 300 years. 

Giggling to himself he started digging through an old chest until he found what he was searching for. The lidded bowl he had once swapped for a singing tree was fashioned out of a single diamond. It shone and sparkled in the light of the torches, a soup bowl fit for the table of an emperor, but for him, the greatest use was its alchemical properties. A new string of laughter burst forth as he dumped the necklaces into the bowl, then emptied the entire flask of his father's and Belle's true love potion over the jewellery. Quickly he placed the lid on the bowl and just to be sure, he warped the entire bowl in thick strands of golden thread. Three days until the next full moon. And when his father rose out of the waters to meet with his little princess, he would be waiting. Ready to deal.

***

Emma was noticing that she was starting to fit into this new life. There was Mary Margaret, her roomie, who was slowly becoming her best friend. And Graham, her boss, who steadfastly refused to tell her his last name, who protected her like a big brother would and who was going to take a vacation to deal with some strange dreams that were plaguing him.

Graham had talked with Dr Hopper, Archie, about it and had decided to untangle the mess that was his life. Maybe he was burning out. Or maybe his subconscious had decided that he needed a dog. He had absolutely no idea, but three weeks of vacation would not do him any harm. Actually he couldn't even remember the last time he took some of his allotted vacation time, maybe his mind was screwing with him because he needed the time-out.

There were Ruby and Linda, who were different like day and night, who slotted into different yet matching spheres in her social life. Granny, who really was like she had dreamed her grandma to be and the elder Gold, who had become someone she could talk to, someone she trusted, a father figure. And finally there was Cináed. He had come across a bit creepy during the first meeting and the next encounter had not been any better, but since then he had started to worm himself past her defences. Somehow they just seemed to fit, to click together like two pieces of a puzzle. Yet there were moments when she really wanted to slap him, to jump-start his strangely switched off brain. It was quite obvious that he loved his father and his father loved him back and yet there seemed a barrier between those two. As someone who didn't have a father she was often fighting the desire to gab him by his tie and shake him until he made up with his father.

***

The call was not unexpected. Unwanted, true, but he had expected it to happen all along. He broke through the surface in a quiet little lagoon only to come face to face with a fairy.  
Long and quite colourful was the history of the sea kingdom and the fairies were often the dark splotches, spoiling happy pictures. True, fairies often were kind to humans, but only to humans and the members of the sea kingdoms did not count in their eyes. He knew that out of bitter experience.  
These days, most of the colourful flying creatures stayed respectfully away from him, but the blue fairy fluttered forward, invaded his line of sight. Her, why did it have to be her?

"Greetings, sorcerer of the seas. We have called you to ask a bon of you. An opportunity to vanquish a great evil has arisen and we need your help to accomplish this great deed."

"Oh, spare me your platitudes, Reul Ghorm. The only reason you've come to ask me about my help is because it didn't worked out so well the last time. You remember, do you?" 

Of course the blue fairy remembered. When she had needed three strands of a mermaids star cloak to fashion new fairy wands, she had shown a young woodsman where to hide when the daughters of the sea king came to land, dressed in their star cloaks. He had stolen the cloak of the youngest, grounding her to the dry land. She had gotten the cloak and the young man an impressive bride. Unfortunately it hadn't been the best of marriages. The landed mermaid had no idea about living on the surface and the woodsman had been quite impatient and brutish. Ten years later the sisters of the mermaid had come with a new cloak for her and the two children she had born. The sea king had terminated all connections between the land and the sea people, nearly declaring war on the surface dwellers. That had been a hundred and fifty years ago and these days mermaids were stories and only the sea-sorcerer came to the surface.

"How did those wands work out for you? How many lives did they claim?"

"You knew that this would happen!"

"Don't lay the blame on me, Reul Ghorm. You know as well as I that all magic has a price attached to it. You had no idea how a star cloak is created and how strongly it is tied to its wearer. And you didn't try to find out. You didn't even ask. I could have told you that. But you weren't ready to pay the asking price. The fate of the mermaid meant nothing to you. She was not human, so she didn't count. That's the way you think, that is your fatal flaw. And as long as the wands are in the possession of the fairies they will claim fairy lives. One life for each drop of blood she had shed and one life for each tear brought to her eyes. No fairy can wield those wands without laying down her life."

The blue fairy glared, that information could have saved the life of many a fairy, but unfortunately they needed the help of the sorcerer. They needed his ink. And she had no doubt that trying to gain it by force was doomed to failure.

"So tell me, sorcerer of the sea, what price do we have pay for a small amount of your ink?"

Rumpelstiltskin looked down, he knew what the fairies needed the ink for and normally he would have told her to leave. And yet, the necklace glinted in the moonlight, a parody of what it should have meant. Bealfire had gone too far this time. If he could do what he had done to his own father, then what kind of crazy plans did he have for others. 

It was easy to manifest as squarish little bottle, filled to the brim with his ink.

"Give me the remains of Shinju's star cloak and swear upon your star that you will never attempt to acquire something that belongs to the water kingdoms in such a dishonest manner again and this will become yours."

She hesitated. But only for a moment. The cloak was easy to give up. After what she had just learned, every single wand created with it resented the fairies and brought unhappiness and death to them. So the cloak was quite useless. It was the oath that stopped her for a moment. Should she break it, she would become an evil fairy, a dark and twisted version of herself.   
On the other hand, the sea kingdom was out of their reach these days and the only one that had something they wanted was the sea sorcerer. So she gave her oath and left, the instrument of the Dark Ones imprisonment clutched tightly in her hands.

He watched her leave, flutter away like an oversized firefly. And he wondered. Somehow he had the feeling that he was playing right into his sons hands. It was not a nice feeling.

***

The last time he had felt this nervous, he had been about to as Morraine to be his wife. And now? Now his heart was hammering loudly in his chest, his hands felt sweaty and his tie seemed to strangle him. He was about to ask Miss Swan to accompany him to the Valentine's Dance.

***

He watched the pairs dancing, Linda sitting in his lap, snuggling. Normally he and his wife forwent the traditional Valentine's dance, seeking other ways to express their mutual love for each other. But this year they attended, just to watch Cináed dance with Emma Swan.  
Rumpelstiltskin smiled. His poor confused son. He had not expected to fall in love and watching him try and court the independent snarky princess had been quite adorkable. Not that he would ever admit such a thing towards his son, no way.

Linda poked him in the side and he was dragged out of his musings, just in time to see them kiss. Rainbow light swirled around them and then flared out, flowing through everyone and everything, washing the Dark Curse away.

The saviour and the Dark One, he had known that their kiss would be epic.


End file.
